


Why Can't Life Ever Go Smoothly?

by jacksparrow589



Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Anne might just be realizing her feelings, F/M, Gen, Gilbert is getting more medical training than he bargained for, Minor Injuries, Self-indulgent fluff, Shirbert, even doctors are the patient sometimes, everyone can see it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-25 16:37:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20915213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacksparrow589/pseuds/jacksparrow589
Summary: Set shortly after the last episode of season 2.  Low-stakes medical drama follows Anne and, rather by circumstance of proximity, Gilbert, over the course of a couple weeks. At least misfortune only comes in threes?





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is the most graphic of the three, but even so, there is just a small mention of blood.

Anne thought she had to be cursed. Even though she'd played no part in the events that were currently transpiring at Green Gables (or maybe because of that), things had gone terribly, horribly wrong.

It had started with Marilla going to visit Rachel, and Matthew needing to run errands of his own. Jerry, who was perfectly capable of working on his own, had been repairing some boards in the fencing around the henhouse while Anne worked on an essay due the following day.

And then it had all gone wrong. Jerry was screaming loudly and in French,and Anne knew enough to know that the normally sweet farmhand was swearing and very much in pain.

Anne dragged her pencil across her paper in surprise, and jumped to her feet, scattering the other sheets of paper to her bedroom floor. She dashed outside, not bothering to grab a coat despite the chill of spring remaining in the air. "Jerry! Jerry, are you alright?" It seemed like a stupid question. Of all the silly things, Gilbert's voice echoed through her head as saying that if someone can scream, they're likely to survive the next few minutes at least, but she knew Jerry wasn't okay by any means.

She rounded the corner of the henhouse and found Jerry kneeling on the ground and hunched over, gasping for breath and cradling his right hand with his left. There was clearly some blood on the front of his coat, but not too much, Anne hoped. "Jerry, what happened?"

"I hit... my thumb... with the hammer..." Jerry gasped, then let out another stream of French, though this sounded more like prayer than swearing.

"Let me see," Anne requested softly, though she made no move to pull Jerry's good hand from his bad one.

Jerry moved the protective hand, and groaned. Anne's stomach turned a bit, as well; Jerry's thumbnail was split and oozing blood. Not terrible, but not something Anne knew how to treat beyond cleaning and binding.

She ran back inside the house and set a pot of water to boil, Gilbert's voice again reminding her that boiled water was safest, preferably with a touch of salt. She then grabbed the scraps from Marilla's sewing basket and tore through them, eventually selecting a sturdy piece of old linen.

Jerry had hobbled inside by then, and Anne eased him into a chair.

It seemed to take forever until the water boiled. Anne asked Jerry to sing his favorite song—"Even if it's in French", which got a harsh, cut off chuckle from Jerry—to take his mind off the pain. She couldn't muster an ounce of irritation when be started singing the same song he'd sung during their cart ride to town after she'd had to cut her hair all those months ago, even though now he was singing it off-key and punctuating it frequently with winces.

When the water finally boiled, Anne carefully added some to a small bowl, let it cool just a bit, and carried it over. "Jerry, this is going to hurt, but I need you to put your thumb in here for a moment." Almost as an afterthought, she grabbed another scrap of fabric. "And you should try to scrub it even a little bit if you can."

Jerry paled, already anticipating the pain, but he nodded and before Anne could suggest counting him off, he plunged his thumb into the bowl, stifling a cry with his other sleeve. He took a shuddering breath, then grabbed the scrap of cloth and tried to gently brush it across the wound under the water, only to let out a yell he couldn't hold back.

"It's okay, Jerry, you don't have to..." Anne took her own steadying breath. "Here, let me wrap it up and then... u-um..." There was no way she could get them into town, let alone to a doctor.

But a certain neighbor and doctor's apprentice could.

"Jerry, do you think you can walk to Gilbert's?"

Jerry looked surprised. "What for?"

"Well, I can't drive us into town, but Gilbert is studying to become a doctor and I think he might help..." Anne trailed off hopelessly.

Jerry was pretty sure Anne had done everything a doctor would reasonably do. He'd change the bandage on his own every day, and he knew to get help if he developed a fever, but Anne just seemed so distraught. "I think I will be fine, but you can go get Gilbert if you think it will help."

Anne nodded briskly and set off.

* * *

"...And I remembered you being surprised that you could use a bit of salt in water to act as soap, so I did that, but I'm just not sure it's clean enough or bandaged properly or... or..." Anne trailed off.

"I'm sure it's fine, Anne. I wouldn't have done anything differently." Gilbert seemed mildly annoyed at being dragged away from his own studies (though he hadn't told Anne he'd just settled in after having finished his chores for the day—she'd probably launch into another frenzied apologetic monologue and that wasn't what either of them needed at the moment), but he was oddly cheered that Anne would come to him, given their checkered history of getting along.

Anne clammed back up, clearly upset.

Gilbert sighed. "You did the right thing. If you're that concerned, it's always best to get a... more knowledgeable opinion." He skirted the word "professional", knowing he wouldn't be at that level for some time, but the fact that folks in Avonlea were already starting to regard him as such for minor emergencies was encouraging.

After a few minutes' brisk walk, they were back at Green Gables.

Anne opened the door to the kitchen, only to find Jerry sitting mostly relaxed at the kitchen table sipping a cup of tea.

"Jerry...!" Anne was well and truly flustered now.

"It's sugared!" Jerry retorted, as though that was the only possible issue at the moment. "I feel fine, Anne." He nodded at Gilbert, who nodded back.

"Well, I should take a look anyway," Gilbert told him. "Just to be sure." He walked over and proceeded to unwrap Jerry's thumb while the younger boy tried not to wince. Anne collapsed into a chair behind them, mortified.

After a few minutes, Gilbert re-bandaged the wound. "Wash and wrap it in new bandages every day, and try not to do much with it. If you get a fever, or if it changes colors or goes numb, go see a real doctor."

Jerry nodded, then with a sly smile, stage-whispered, "I think you'd better tend to Anne now, eh? I think she might be going into shock."

Anne glared at Jerry, while Gilbert's expression as he looked between the other two remained inscrutable. Gilbert paced over to Anne and put a hand under her chin, tilting her head to the light as if to examine her eyes, while Anne stared back at him, looking very much like she'd rather be anywhere else right now. He went through the motions, placing the back of his hand to her forehead and taking her wrist to check her pulse, a slow smile creeping across his face. "I think you'll both make a full recovery," he said finally. He grabbed his coat and shrugged it on. "Hopefully that'll be all the excitement for the afternoon. Rest up, Jerry," he instructed, before nodding at Anne, who bobbed her head back. "Anne."

He wasn't twenty paces from the house before Anne opened the door behind him. "_Gilbert!_"

He looked back over his shoulder, then turned as Anne dashed up to him. There was the faintest ghost of a smile on her face, but her voice belied her sincere gratitude. "Thank you. And I apologize for interrupting your afternoon. It... won't happen again."

"It wasn't the worst intrusion." Gilbert said it before he could decide whether or not he actually should. "I'm always happy to help, Anne. Take care."

Anne grinned at him, looking just a little dazed. "You too," she said automatically, if a bit faintly.

Gilbert turned to keep walking, but he threw a glance back over his shoulder after a minute, and smiled when it was clear Anne hadn't moved. He didn't hear the squeak she let out as she realized she was just standing out in the cold watching him leave, but he could imagine it as she turned and bolted inside. He laughed to himself and continued on his way.

* * *

Anne leaned against the door as she shut it.

“Big bad wolf coming to get us?” Jerry asked, one eyebrow arched.

“I'll have none of that from you,” Anne retorted sourly.

“I give and give and give some more, and all it gets me is a sore thumb,” Jerry grumbled, though he continued to smile. He shifted from the chair. “I'm going home. Please tell Matthew and Marilla what happened, and that I will be back tomorrow for light duties.”

Anne nodded and stepped aside. As he put his right hand on the door and then remembered he really ought to use his left, Jerry stopped. “He likes you, you know. Gilbert. I'd bet next month's wages on it.” When Anne sighed impatiently and rolled her eyes, he continued, “And I'll bet that again on you feeling the same way about him.”

Anne rolled her eyes again for good measure. “Good thing I'm not the sort to take your money on foolish gambling.”

“Uh-_huh_.” Jerry smiled, his nose crinkling just a bit. “See you tomorrow, Anne.”

“Bye.” Anne closed the door behind Jerry and leaned against it again, taking a deep breath and letting out an even deeper sigh. Jerry couldn't possibly be right. Not about Gilbert's feelings for her, and certainly not about hers for him! Honestly, first Cole and now Jerry—what was it about Gilbert that led people to believe he saw Anne as any sort of potential romantic partner? Surely he had the pick of the girls...

Anne tried not to dwell on that last sentiment too much, as it seemed to make her feel just a little lost and lonely. Instead, she set about cleaning up the kitchen. Marilla and Matthew would be back soon, after all, and they certainly didn't need to know about the flights of fancy their farmhand was taking. No need to get the elder Cuthberts flustered about a nonexistent romance. No need whatsoever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Gilbert is absolutely teasing Anne by pretending to check her over. As much as Anne catches him off-guard, I'd like to think he'd step it up just to make her squirm a bit, especially after she pretty needlessly pulled him away from his studies.  
Also, Jerry absolutely knows what's up. One thousand percent.


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set about a week after Part 1
> 
> EDIT: no new content; just correcting a misspelling.

Anne was definitely cursed. Jerry's accident had been the first sign, but this...

Well, at least Anne could be grateful that it hadn't rained, and doubly so that Billy Andrews and his group of friends had vanished as soon as they'd been dismissed.

She'd been leaving the schoolhouse late, having stayed behind for a quarter hour to talk to Miss Stacy about being a teacher. One of the younger children had dropped a rag doll on the steps outside, and, having turned to wave her goodbyes, Anne hadn't seen it. One foot caught in it, then the other as she struggled to regain her balance, and off the step she went with a cry.

"Anne!" Two concerned voices yelled her name: Miss Stacy, and Gilbert, who was staying behind for a bit of catch-up, having had to attend to his property while Bash had been absent the last few days.

Anne levered herself into a sitting position, wincing as she put weight on her left shoulder. It hurt, but not too badly. Her knees and ankles definitely hurt more.

"Stay where you are." Miss Stacy crouched next to her, while Gilbert knelt at her feet.

"I'm fine," Anne insisted. "Nothing hurts too m—_OW_!" She cut herself off with a yell as Gilbert gently rotated the ankle she'd initially caught. She glared at him, earning only a level gaze back.

"People who don't have sprained ankles generally don't yell like that and start crying when someone just touches them," he informed her.

Anne realized tears of pain (and now of humiliation) were leaking. She swiped the back of her hand across her face to dash them away. Gilbert tested her knee, which elicited a noise of discomfort from Anne, and then the joints of her other leg, which he deemed a bit twisted from the fall, but not worrying.

"You'll want to stop that from swelling too much." Gilbert started carefully unlacing Anne's boot while Anne watched in horror.

"Perhaps we ought to get her inside first?" Miss Stacy suggested as she looped Anne's arm around her shoulder. Anne couldn't see her, but the startled look on Gilbert's face when she'd reminded them of her presence had rapidly shifted to annoyed, and it sounded and awful lot like their teacher might be holding back laughter.

Gilbert stood first and stood on Anne's free side to catch as she and Miss Stacy rose.

"Hm. I'm not certain I want you trying to hop up that, and you probably shouldn't put weight on that ankle..." Miss Stacy trailed off.

Without a word, Gilbert ducked under Anne's other arm to support her as he and Miss Stacy stepped up and lifted her onto the step of the school house again. Just as quickly as he'd gotten there, Gilbert moved away from Anne to open the schoolhouse door.

Miss Stacy helped Anne hobble in and sit on the floor near the stove. Anne started unlacing her boot again before Gilbert could get to it. He seemed satisfied enough to watch and give instructions. "Be careful getting that boot off, Anne. Don't pull too hard. If it hurts, take it very slowly."

"I know," grumbled Anne, but she did as she was bid.

Miss Stacy procured a scrap of fabric to use as a bandage, while Gilbert scrounged a few pieces of kindling to stabilize the ankle. "You know this isn't going to feel good." He looked Anne square in the eye, his eyes softening for just a bit as he said more softly, "I'm sorry."

Miss Stacy offered Anne her hand to squeeze. Anne didn't use it much, though she did wince and stifle a few groans, and was rather pale by the end of it.

"You did well," Gilbert told her as he tied off the makeshift bandage.

Anne smiled faintly. "I've had worse," she said before she could stop the unfortunate truth from coming out. Gilbert's face immediately went unreadable aside from him trying desperately to figure out what to say and not coming up with anything. He folded his arms and went a little tense.

"I've been thinking about how to get Anne home," Miss Stacy said, purposefully ignoring the tension of the moment so as to try and defuse it. She looked at Anne. "I can wheel you on my bicycle, but we should have one person on each side to help keep you balanced. Gilbert? I understand you live nearby to Anne, and we can talk as we walk."

Gilbert nodded, looking relieved, and he and Miss Stacy gathered their things while Anne sat mostly patiently. Miss Stacy headed outside to prepare her bicycle and gather Anne's scattered things, leaving Gilbert to get Anne outside.

First, he looped her arm around his shoulders as they'd done earlier. "Let's see if it will take any weight," Gilbert suggested.

Anne gingerly put her foot down, encouraged by success up until she tried to take a step. She hissed in pain and quickly shifted to her good foot while Gilbert held her up. She hopped a few paces with his support, but the height difference between them was a bit too much. Gilbert looked down at Anne. "There's only one option left."

Anne looked less resigned than he'd thought she would be. She must be tired. "If you must," she said wearily.

Gilbert bent to pick up Anne's legs, and Anne made a small noise of shock. "I thought you were going to have me hop on your back."

"You're not really in a good state for that," he told her. "Besides, it's just until we're outside."

Anne nodded, but stayed quiet.

Miss Stacy's eyes widened and she bit her lip just a bit when she saw Gilbert carrying Anne out, but she stayed quiet until Anne was situated and Gilbert had grabbed his things. "Off we go," she told them, and they slowly made their way.

* * *

True to her word, Miss Stacy caught Gilbert up on what he had missed as they traveled. Anne mostly stayed quiet, both from pain and from fascination at being allowed to "ride" Miss Stacy's bicycle, such as it was, though she chipped in from time to time with tidbits of information when she felt Miss Stacy was leaving something out. All three of them had to smile when Anne mentioned the hawk's nest some of the smaller children had found, and how Anne was looking forward to seeing the chicks when they hatched.

As they neared Green Gables, Miss Stacy tried to perk Anne up by asking her to repeat portions of lessons back for Gilbert. The teens had some semblance of spirited banter going on by the time Green Gables came into view, each of them insisting a passage from a poem they were studying meant something different, and Miss Stacy laughingly reassuring them that both interpretations were valid, and indeed that that was the beauty of being able to study and interpret works on their own.

Jerry came running up first, curious about the motorbike and why Anne was on it. He shyly greeted Miss Stacy after learning it was her bike, and stepped aside for Matthew to take charge of Anne. Marilla had come outside by this time and was discussing the provenance of Anne's injury and treatment, as well as planning that Diana or Gilbert could bring Anne her schoolwork for the next few days until Anne was feeling up to walking a bit.

Marilla invited them in for a quick cup of tea, but both Gilbert and Miss Stacy declined, much to Anne's dismay.

As they watched the Cuthberts and Jerry convey Anne inside, Gilbert turned to Miss Stacy. "You made me sound like a hero. I just... did what I should."

Miss Stacy smiled enigmatically. "Heroes—and doctors—often do. If you are to be a doctor, you ought to have confidence in yourself, but some of that must come from those you treat also having confidence in you, even when something is straightforward." As an afterthought, she added, "I know Anne also appreciated your work. I'm sure she'll be the first to tell the tale."

Gilbert shrugged. "I'm not so sure," he murmured.

Miss Stacy's smile softened. "Give it time. You'll see." She hopped on her motorbike. "And I will see you in class tomorrow."

Gilbert waved his goodbye and continued on to his house, mulling over the afternoon's events and concluding that, above all else, he preferred it when Anne wasn't having catastrophe befall her, but, as he'd said to her after Jerry's accident, he was still glad he could help. As much as he'd protested Miss Stacy's insistence that Anne would tell the tale, he knew she appreciated his help when it counted, and that was what mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Miss Stacy also knows what's up. Like, she genuinely wants to see her students succeed at their career ambitions, but maybe also their romantic ones, as well, and better if it's both at the same time.  
Also, we all know the face Gilbert is making when he doesn't know how to respond to something Anne has said.


	3. Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set three-ish days after Part 2

As if it wasn't bad enough, the curse was rubbing off.

Gilbert had, as promised, dropped by to deliver schoolwork on his way home, as Diana was ill.

Anne had convinced Marilla to let him to stay for dinner, saying it was the least they could do after Gilbert had not only brought her work for her, but had been the one to make sure no further damage came to her ankle in the first place.

Marilla's agreement was contingent upon Anne peeling potatoes for dinner, but she'd said it with a smile, as Anne had been expected to do so, anyway. Marilla had left the kitchen to go attend to some mending, and Gilbert had offered to help. “After all, the sooner you get this done, the sooner you can start on your schoolwork.”

Anne had protested. “Please, you've done enough! I haven't even said thank you in the first place...”

“Well, no better time than now,” Gilbert had smiled.

Anne laughed. “Gilbert, this is supposed to be my expression of gratitude! Stop helping!”

“Be careful! You're going to hurt yourself ag—” Gilbert cut himself off with a wince of pain as the knife he was using slipped and cut along the space between his thumb and forefinger.

“Gilbert!” Anne set down her potato and knife and pushed herself to her feet.

“I'm alright,” Gilbert assured her. “It's just a scratch.”

Anne hobbled over to Marilla's scrap basket. It sure was seeing a lot of use the past two weeks...

She grabbed a scrap and made her way back over to Gilbert, who had his hand over the sink to keep from bleeding on the floor. Anne grabbed Gilbert's injured hand and deftly wrapped it, carefully tying it off at the end. She looked up to find Gilbert watching her face very intently.

Anne carefully raised a hand to Gilbert's forehead.

“What,” Gilbert breathed, “are you doing?”

“Checking to make sure you don't have a fever,” was Anne's equally quiet reply.

Gilbert was silent for a moment. A smile played just at the corners of his mouth. “And why would I have a fever?”

“I'm just trying to make sure you're alright!” Anne hissed. Louder, she continued, “It's my fault any of this happened!”

“How was Jerry's thumb your fault?” Gilbert asked, but Anne was well and truly working up to a frenzy and not listening at all.

“All I wanted to do was repay your kindness and here you are, injured on my watch!”

Gilbert squeezed the hand that was still on his injured one. “Anne!”

Anne stopped.

“You're not to blame for my carelessness, or Jerry's. And you certainly aren't to blame for the ragdoll someone else dropped!” He took a breath. Anne blinked, and Gilbert continued more softly, “You're right; you were just trying to repay my kindness, and—” he raised his bandaged hand, Anne's still in it “—you have.”

It was then that Marilla walked into the kitchen, drawn by the raised voices. “What's happened?”

Anne and Gilbert both turned to look at Marilla, then realized Gilbert was still holding one of Anne's hands and had his other on her shoulder, while Anne's other hand was still on Gilbert's forehead. The two sprang apart as Marilla looked to the heavens and murmured, “On second thought, I'm not sure I want to know.”

Gilbert cleared his throat. “Sorry, Miss Cuthbert; I was careless and cut myself and Anne was just bandaging my hand.”

Marilla nodded faintly and murmured, “That does seem about right... Well, come on, Anne; the potatoes won't peel themselves.” When both teens went to pick up their knives, Marilla rounded on Gilbert. “_Not_ you, young man. We've had quite enough excitement in this house the last few weeks.”

Gilbert looked like he wanted to ask if anything worse could really happen, but then thought the better of it and merely passed the potatoes to Marilla for chopping as Anne finished with them.

When that was finished and the shepherd's pie was in the oven, Marilla deemed it safe enough to attend her mending once more, while Anne and Gilbert settled into their books, with Anne asking questions every so often and Gilbert explaining (and Anne occasionally insisting he must be wrong) as though they were in class and nothing unusual had happened.

* * *

Dinner was equally uneventful, though Matthew and Marilla were shooting each other looks, sometimes at the same time Anne and Gilbert were doing the same. Matthew fled the table as soon as he was able, and Marilla shuffled Anne and Gilbert off to the sitting room, though Gilbert insisted he had to leave, but Marilla insisted on equally (and unusually) strongly on him staying long enough for her to package up a batch of biscuits for himself and Bash and Mary.

After a few minutes' silence, Anne spoke up. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “I didn't say it when it actually mattered, and I'm sorry for that.”

Gilbert shrugged. “I appreciate it, but if I'm going to be a doctor, I have to imagine not all my patients will thank me for helping them.”

“Well, I certainly would!” Anne declared. “As your capability is a foregone conclusion, it's only good manners, and it's not as though you possess a poor bedside manner yourself...” She trailed off. Gilbert was staring again. “What?”

“_I know Anne also appreciated your work. I'm sure she'll be the first to tell the tale.”_

“_I'm not so sure.”_

“Just when I think I have you figured out, you always manage to surprise me,” Gilbert said carefully. “One never gets precisely what they expect from you, and yet, it's hard to stop trying to figure out what you're going to do next.”

Anne suddenly found the floor very interesting, and though her smile was shaky, it was there. “I just wish being a free spirit didn't draw so much attention. I try not to care so much what people think, but...”

Gilbert shook his head. “There will always be people who think that free-spiritedness is a character flaw, but you've changed their minds more than once before. And Anne?” He smiled sincerely. “Those whose minds you can't change... they're not worth your worry.”

Anne looked up at him. Her eyes were very bright. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Gilbert shifted to the edge of his seat, and Anne wasn't sure what he was going to do next when Marilla popped in with the promised biscuits. Gilbert practically jumped to his feet, only to be caught in the realization that Anne was still hobbling about. He held out his hand to pull Anne to her feet. She seemed able enough to move around, so he busied himself with gathering his things.

Anne followed him to the porch to see him off, Marilla already having expressed her goodbyes and Matthew still nowhere to be found.

“Will you be coming back to school soon?” Gilbert asked.

Anne nodded. “Matthew will be taking me in the cart for the next week until I can walk on it.”

“Well, if for any reason he can't, I'd be happy to carry your things for you,” Gilbert offered.

Anne took a sharp breath. “I—thank you, but I doubt that will be necessary. But thank you,” she stammered. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

Anne waited a few minutes before limping back inside. Marilla was giving her a speculative look.

“Gilbert just wanted to make sure I'd be able to get to school,” Anne said quickly, her eyes wide.

“Well, that's very kind of him,” Marilla said with a gentle smile. “I suppose if you wanted to use his help instead, it would save us some trouble.”

Anne blinked. “I-I told him Matthew would be driving me tomorrow, but I suppose we'll see how I feel after that.”

Marilla nodded. “It sounds like you have a plan. Go on and finish your schoolwork.”

Anne turned and hobbled off up the stairs with her things, her heart finally calming down from clamoring on and off the past couple of hours. Until she thought through almost anything Gilbert had said or done after cutting his hand, anyway, and then she was back to a flushed face and a racing heart.

“_You know Gilbert has a crush on you, right?”_

_"I'm always happy to help, Anne. Take care."_

“_He likes you, you know. Gilbert.”_

“_Just when I think I have you figured out, you always manage to surprise me.”_

“_And I'll bet that again on you feeling the same way about 'im.”_

“_I'd be happy to carry your things for you.”_

It couldn't possibly be, and yet...

Anne shook her head. Even if she felt that way about Gilbert, surely he couldn't feel the same way about her; he was just being kind as he always was. It was foolish to think on it further. She pulled out her reader, and began to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like Marilla would be so used to Anne's eccentricities that as long as she didn't catch them in some kind of clearly romantic embrace, she'd just chalk it up to Anne being Anne. I also feel like Marilla has at least an inkling of what's up after the Christmas in season 2, and definitely after the train ride in episode 8 of the same. And I don't think she's opposed.  
With regard to food: I'm pretty sure shepherd's pie requires mashed potatoes on top, but I've got to believe there's some bougie (or just plain “I don't have time to boil and mash potatoes”) recipe that allows for layered sliced potatoes on top instead.


End file.
